


Second.

by Adaney



Category: Original Work
Genre: POV Original Character, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28965003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adaney/pseuds/Adaney
Summary: I’ll eventually have what I want.





	Second.

The idea that you can keep something in your mind, that it's yours wholly and completely, knowing that your thoughts are as inscrutable as the motivations of people around you isn't _foreign_. 

It's truth. Something you've always known since you scrapped and clawed with siblings larger than you are and realized that the only way to get your point across is to fight. To lay hands on another person is both an expression of empathy and intent. It means more than your wordless existence ever will.

Words don't leave bruises. They're said and done in a way that's incomparable to physical malady or what damage you can inflict in a moment but they stick with you, an itch beneath the surface of your skin, a tickle in your mind when you're left alone with your thoughts.

There was never an easy route for you. Words don't fall from your tongue and never will. You've been stripped from birth of something fundamental and oft taken for granted, and all you've left is a maw that can tear out the throats of men that'd see you as lesser for being everything they wanted but not. For all your height and gangly limbs you're but window dressing surrounding the true scene. You're the background to a gaggle of a dozen girls who'd sooner bite with words than risk themselves with tooth and claw.

For everything you are and aren't you know that they're no better than you and you're no worse than them. You've seen them at their worst and wiped their tears with a gentleness that is learned and not innate. For every harsh word or misstep you still yourself, you wait, you bide your time until you might teach them that there's more to fear than the immediacy of sharp words. 

* * *

_I’ll eventually have what I want._

How is that a thought that keeps people going? It doesn’t entertain you. You don’t sit dreaming of the day you’ll have what you want. You take it, or you don’t, or you regret your inaction and sit seething in the silence made mandatory by your condition.


End file.
